








^^-n^ 






THE WIND OVER THE WATER 



THE CONTEMPORARY SERIES 

UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME 

Laodice and Danae Play in Verse 

By Gordon Bottomley 
Images — Old and New Poems 

By Richard Aldington 
The English Tongue and Other Poems 

By Lewis Worthington Smith 
Five Men and Pompey Dramatic Portraits 

By Stephen Vincent Benet 
Horizons Poems 

By Robert Alden Sanborn 
The Tragedy A Fantasy in Verse 

By Gilbert Moyle 
Common Men AND Women Rhythmus 

By Harold W. Gammans 
The Marsh Maiden And Other Plays 

By Felix Gould 
Omar and the Rabbi Play in One Act 

By Frederick LeRoy Sargent 
The Smile of Mona Lisa Play in One Act 

By Jacinto Benavente 
The Lamp of Heaven Chinese Play in One Act 

By Mrs. L. Worthington Smith 
The Death of Titian A Dramatic Fragment 

By Hugo von Hofmannsthal 



THE WIND OVER 
THE WATER 



BY 

PHILIP MERIVALE 



"L'oubli total est sans gravite; 
Mais I'oubli partiel est perfide." 




Boston 

The Four Seas Company 

1920 



Copyright, ip20, by 
The Four Seas Company 

All rights are expressly reserved. For rights of public per- 
fomnance, address the publishers, who are the author's agents. 






GOPYRieUT OFFKT 



Boston, Mass, U. S. A. 
The Four Seas Company 



FEB 23 1921 



TO MY WIFE 



... it gives some sense of power and passion 
In helpless impotence to try to fashion 
Our woe in living words, howe'er uncouth. 

James Thomson. 



PERSONS 

Thora 

Olaf 

Gyda 

CORMAR 

The Angel of God 

The scene of the play is laid in Iceland in the 12th 
century A. D. 



THE WIND OVER THE WATER 



The interior of Cormar's house. It is built of pine and 
■ walled with smooth planks. Curtains of skin hang 
over the window which is towards the right in the 
back wall, and over the door which is in the middle 
of that wall. Between the window and the door, at 
the height of a man's head, is hung a great target of 
white bull's hide studded with a copper hilt. By the 
right hand wall of the house is the hearth, on which 
a fire is glowing in good embers. The room is with- 
out any designed ornament, but is made beautiful by 
the incidental shapeliness of the common implements 
such as the spinning wheel with its little carved pine- 
cones, a shepherd's staff with a hook of copper, a 
fishing spear, two or three odd oars and the woman's 
copper cooking-utensils. Above the hearth, under 
the window lies a heavy pile of skins for a bed. The 
chairs and table are all of white pine and very heavy. 
Thora is seated by the fire spinning, and Olaf is on 
the floor watching her steadfastly, while Gyda, his 
sister, is standing in the window, gazing out through 
the half -withdrawn curtain at the snow; for on this 
early spring evening the snow is coming down 
heavily. 

[7] 



Olaf 
Now stay your wheel. You'll dim your eyes with 

watching it 
In this half-light. You promised us at dusk 
You would lay it by when it grew dark. 

Thora 

Is it dark ? 

Olaf 
Look ! I will keep the fire-light from your eyes : 
Now turn and see how dark it is grown since first 
We all fell silent. 

Thora 
Set it yonder then. 

[He takes the wheel over to the other end of the room, 
beyond the table.] 

I did not think we had so long kept silence. 

Olaf 
One might suspect you had a thing to hide 
So busily o'er the wheel you bent your head. 
Now, Gyda, sit you down, and I will tell 
A tale to gladden you in the red gloom. 

Gyda 
[Turning from the window.] 

Are you not weary, Thora ? Let us go. 

Thora 
Stay a while with me yet. I am alone. 
I'll light the lamp. 

[Gyda returns to her watch at the window.] 
[8] 



Olaf 
Nay, let us have the dusk. . . . 
Now Olaf's widow, Aud, the queen, set sail 
With many a red-haired Gaedhil from the Western 

Isles 
And came to Hoy — 

Thora 
Why will you tell me stories 
Of sea- worn islanders? Are there none beside 
For you to mock at, for their griefs or colour? 

Olaf 
I mock them not. I tell you how they met 
And drave aground the Danish ships, and bore 
Much gear away, and every man a mate 
To bear him seed in the new land they sought. 

Thora 
You know I come of that same seed. You make 
Laughter so easily out of grievous things. 
Why do you say you love me? 

Olaf 

I had thought 
To make you proud and merry with a tale 
Of the great Gaedhil that came with Aud whom she 
Loved — the fair queen, and slew for her love's sake 
Because his blue eyes wandered from her face 
And dwelt more lovingly — 

Thora 

Oh ! tell not me 
Of the red Gaedhils ! Had the sea swallowed them 

[9] 



And frozen up their blue eyes and made weed 
Of their red hair there had been rest for us. 

Olaf 
You would not have been born ; and all my dreams 
Had been the formless and dull shadow of life : 
But now they are a sharp and glittering sword 
Forged and shaped out and tempered by my thought 
Of you. 

Thora 
You must not dream. You must ungird 
This sword, for fear its edge be turned on you. 

Olaf 
Gyda hath said the same ! And they all say 
That I am a fool. They call me by his name, him 
Who dreamed of meanings in the stars and moon 
And saw in the sheaves interpretable signs. 
They mock me for a fool that's not content 
With the laborious day, but seeketh stuff 
To spin and weave and labour over in sleep. 

Thora 
You must not fashion armour for yourself 
Lest being a most unskilful smith you leave 
A crevice for the arrows to find out, 
Or it be found too heavy for your limbs 
And on a day betray you to the foe. 

Olaf 
I could not live if I should tear from me 
The half-wrought web I am weaving. Do you bid me 
Cast it aside? 

[10] 



Thora 
Yes, for I love you well. 
You are gentle and in my trouble comfort me. 
But for your own sake I would have you change. 
Grow hard to men and women, and your heart 
Will become strong and feel no pain itself. 

Olaf 
Do you say that? Whence are your sorrows then 
If only out of visions grief be born? 
Your eyes are not yet visionless, albeit 
You bid me shut mine out. Nay, you yourself 
That give this counsel are a vision dreamed, 
Dwelt on by sad, impatient souls at night. 
My spirit is the tremulous sea that lies 
Under the spell of the oft-changing Moon. 

Thora 
I am older, and I know you will find out 
Some hidden thing within the Moon's heart laid 
That shall dispel the enchantment she holds now. 
And darken you with anger and reproach. 

Olaf 
You are not older than the soul in me. 
The ignorant sea, which is so old, remains 
Enchanted still ; and so must men abide 
For ever under the spell of woman's love. 
Although she seek herself to lift the veil. 

Gyda 

[Coming down to them] 
Come, let us go. 



Olaf 
Give me your hand to kiss. 
[She gives him both hands.] 
You are no queen with soft deHghtful hands 
That have wrought nothing but old songs in silk. 
These are slave's hands. They shall be a sign 
Like His, who died the slave's death long ago, 
The sign and witness of the Truth. 
Gyda 

Come now. 
Let us go home. The snow is over, and all 
The earth is sheeted. 

Olaf 
[At the window.] 

Why, what night is this 
That the stars should seem mystical anew 
And the Earth with a new silver spell enchanted? 
It is a gleaming mirror just unveiled 
That has been curtained many years, a pool 
We have found the first time on a familiar road. 

[He goes to the door, opens it and stands outside.] 
What saint's night is it? 

Thora 
[ Unconsciously speaking aloud, hut so that only Gyda 
hears. ] 

It is my wedding-night. 
I have been ten years married. 
Gyda 

Little friend, 
I can well see for what white sacrament 
God spread the world to-night. 

[12] 



Thora 
[Hysterically. ] 

And I have bought 
Wine, look you ! 

Gyda 

Kiss me. You are beautiful. 

Thora 
Nay, I am pale and careful-eyed. 



Gyda 
Cormar — 



I'll ask 



Thora 

Nay, vex him not with talk of me. 

Gyda 
Vex him? 

Thora 
Ah yes, he deems me fair enough. 
You would do wrong to think him careless of me. 
He loves me well. But then ten years will work 
A change — do you not think it must — some change ?- 
In any woman, fair though she may be. 
And if you mark it not, yet he will see it 
Who hath kept that beauty in his house so long. 
It is a golden bowl from which he hath drunk 
So oft that he forgets how fair it is ; 
For beauty will become common and stale 
Unto the eye that hath been long close to it. 
I have been ten years learning this. 

[13] 



Gyda 

Ten years ! 
A thousand shall not mar your loveliness. 
That is eternal by the influences 
Of great deeds by the songs men sing of them. 

Thora 
Ten years is long. 

[Gyda takes her hands.] 

Gyda 
Where got you this new ring? 

Thora 
Why, Cormar found it lying yesterday 
In the black furrow, and gave it me to-day. 
No — do not take it. 
[She withdraws her hand and puts it in her hosom.] 

Gyda 
There is writing on it. 

Thora 
We do not know the tongue. 

Olaf 
[Without.] 

Oh ! I can see 
All manner of signs in heaven. There is a new 
Message — I know not what, but the dark pines 
Stretch silver heads up on their great black stems, 
The pines are heroes come out of long ships 
From a far country to a stranger land, 
And stretching up their silvery shields to heaven 
They shout to awake the sleepy, sorrowing world. 

[14] 



Gyda 

[To Thora.] 

Do you not know the burthen ? 

Thora 

Cormar says 
The character is strange even to the priest, 
Who said it was a heathen ornament 
With an idolatrous prayer. And I am afraid, 
Lest in it indeed a mystery be 
Most perilous, a spell perhaps to plague 
The folk on earth for ever. 

Olaf 
[Without.] 

The bent Moon 
Is like a flail swung in the grasp of God. 
And from His threshing-floor the scattered stars 
Leap, and are winnowed out by the four winds. 
And unto us the grain He measureth 
That we may fill our bosoms and have bread 
For evermore. 

Gyda 
The moonlight crazes him. 
We will go home. 

Thora 

The road is bright for you. 
[Gyda goes out and joins Olaf; the two can be seen 
passing the window together, against the snow. 
Thora follows to the door and stands looking after 
them. ] 

[15] 



Thora 
I hoped he would come earlier in to-night, 
This night, I thought, if he remembered it : 
At least to-night. I should not ask another, 
Since it is lonely here for him. The snow 
Perhaps, — ay, it is deep : that hath delayed him. 
He will be wet up to the thighs no doubt. 
I'll make the fire up brighter. 

[She shuts the door and draws the curtain over the 
window, and carries logs to the hearth.] 

How the ring 
Cuts round my finger when I lift the logs. 
They are heavy ; but this other cuts me not 
Like the new copper thing. 

{She examines it.] 

If I but knew 
The rune that's written on it 

[She begins to prepare supper.] 

I would now 
Use it to change the manner of my days. 
To make his recollection dear, perhaps 
Recover something of the beauty I left 
In long, unvisited corners of our life. 

[By this time she has set broth to boil on the hearth, 
and laid out bread on the table. ] 

But I must hide the wine. I'll bring it out 
For a surprise to please him. There it's best. 
[i6] 



[She hides it after some hesitation behind the spinning- 
wheel in the far corner of the room.} 

He would not look for wine to come from there. 

I wonder if I prayed when I bought that ! 

Deep in my heart it may be, and unknown 

To my own thought. Would God hear pray'rs like 

that? 
What bounty is in wine that we should drink it 
At God's guest-table? Til ask Olaf this. 
But if it kindle in Cormar that old love, 
Like twain that go back hand in hand, we two 
Shall wander over the ways we have trod so far, 
And heal with visionary steps the wounds 
We had in walking down the sad long years. 
[She has been busy still, but now pauses with her hands 
empty, leaning on the table. ] 

But he'll not come with me. 

CORMAR 

[Without.] 

Thora! A-Ah! 
[He gives a familiar call.] 

Thora 
[Returning the cry.] 
A — Ah! I am coming, Cormar. 

[She hastens to open the door; he is standing, with 
the horses' bridles in his hand, a great fair man with 
red hair and beard. ] 

What has happened ? 
How late you are ! 

[17] 



CORMAR 

It is not midnight yet. 
Bring me a rush-light out : the stable-lantern 
Is empty, and the wick has smouldered away. 

Thora 
I think there are no rush-lights. 

Cor MAR 

Let me look. 
[He pushes past her, without violence, hut carelessly, 
into the room. She takes his place at the horses' 
heads. ] 
Did you not go to-day to market? 

Thora 

Yes. 

CORMAR 

[After searching the room.] 
Is there no oil at least? 

Thora 
[Impatiently at last.] 

Why did not you 
Bethink yourself to get it? — Could not you 
For once remember? Must I think and do 
Everything, that you may be free to do 
Nothing? 

[i8] 



CORMAR 

[ Tranquilly. ] 
I'll house them in the dark then. 

[He goes towards the door.] 

Thora 

Cormar, Cormar ! 
Cor MAR 
They are steaming in the cold. 

Thora 

I am sorry, Cormar. 
You are so patient. 

Cormar 

Nay, now, do not weep. 

Thora 
But you have not remembered — 

Cormar 

What? 

Thora 

To-day — 
Our wedding-day. 

Cormar 
This snow will ruin all ! 
Who sends the snow in spring? 

Thora 

Ah, Cormar! 

[19] 



Why, 



CORMAR 

It is as cold as any winter's night. 

Thora 
You do not hear me. 

Cormar 

Why will you speak of it? 
'Tis idle to remember a day dead. 

Thora 
How is it dead? I did not let it die. 
Who slew it then? 

CoRMAR 

Why it is past and we 
Shall come not on it in our way to death. 
Why would you fix it in your mind, to weep 
When it comes round, a ghost, a shadow, a dream, 
A lying beggar that prevails on you 
With his foot-weariness to help him live ? 

Thora 
Do I look now as then I was? 

CORMAR 

I'll go 
And put the horses in. While I am gone 
Make supper ready. 

Thora 
Yes, you have forgotten. 
Will you speak out and say you are weary of me? 

[20] 



Cor MAR 
I will speak out the truth. I know not how 
We are come to this : why you that are beautiful 
Should fail me now, that were sufficient once. 
I caught you up, a laughing girl, a spirit, 
Ay, in mid-laughter and defiant joy 
Took you, in proud and scornful maidenhood, 
That you should learn humility and grief, 
A woman's portion being grown, — and man's. 
And you came with me into the long ship 
And many days sailed the unstable sea. 
Watching the light foam and the swollen wave, 
And wide-spread wings of the free albatross. 
Then we were joyous, we were free as they. 
It was the season in our hearts, no more. 
Then were none like us : amid the armed 
And bearded warriors I stood like a king. 
And you were peerless among women-folk. 

Thora 
Ah ! You remember all. 

CORMAR 

It is remembrance 
That saps the strength of all intent to come. 
And makes us doubtful in our purposes. 
Remembrance and regret are man and wife. 
And much I fear God can not sever them. 
Dry your eyes ; we are weary both. 

Thora 

Nay, I am not 
Crying. 

[21] 



Cor MAR 
Come, that is well then. 

Thora 
[Shyly.] 

Cormar, I bought 
This, in the morning. 

[She brings out the wine.] 
It is southern wine 
Brought hither in the foreign ship, and richer 
Than our own vintages. 

CORMAR 

Why, if our land 
Will bear us only wheat we may rejoice. 
But this year is a poor one, and I fear 
The eaters of the grass alone will reap. 
You had done better to have bought the oil. 

Thora 
Yes. 

CORMAR 

Now I must make haste. 

Thora 

But you'll not go 
In darkness ? Take out this lamp in your hand. 

Cormar 
Will you not fear to sit alone in the dark? 

Thora 
The fire is bright enough : you'll not be far : 
And you more need the light than I do, Cormar. 

[22] 



CORMAR 

[Taking the lamp.] 
I had the horses rough-shod in the morning. 

[Going out.] 
Now get your supper ready. 

Thora 

He hath said 
I am beautiful. He does not say I am old. 
He does not turn from me because I am grey. 
There is some stronger thing at work than Time, 
Deeper than change which passeth over us. 

[A figure coming into sight from the left looks in at 
the window for an instant and returns to the left 
again. ] 

I am amazed because there is nothing here 

I can perceive to alter or remove, 

Naught that might seem to anger him, and naught 

That is desirable to him. 

[There is a knock at the door.] 

Who knocks? 
Was it within myself? Can one approach 
So stealthily, and mingle with the thought 
That's deepest buried in another's soul? 

[23] 



[The knocking is repeated. She opens the door and 
discovers a woman standing there, dressed in rich, 
white raiment. It is an Angel of God in the like- 
ness of a woman.] 

Angel 
You have been long, but now you will let me in. 

Thora 
What leads you hither, wandering at this hour? 

Angel 
Will you not let me in? 

Thora 
Yes, do not stand 
In the cold, doubtfully. Come by the fire. 
[She brings her in.] 

Angel 
[Sitting by the fire.] 
How warm your hearth is ! Why do you sit alone 
Without a lamp? 

Thora 
The fire is good : it gives 
Light enough for my purpose, and my husband 
Will bring me back the lamp in a little while. 

Angel 
Hath he taken the light from you? 

[24] 



Thora 

Nay of myself 
I gave it to him : there are so many ways 
That men have need of Hght more than we women. 
You see 1 can make his supper and prepare 
His bed in a half-Ught : I need no more. 
Here's milk and bread. 

Angel 
Is it not his ? 

Thora 

There's more. 
But though I would spare nothing of my own 
I have set by wine for him, and of that wine 
I dare not give you. Yet drink this, I pray you ! — 
I am not inhospitable. 

[She kneels and stirs the fire.] 

Angel 
Do you not 
Wonder who I may be. 

Thora 
Oft in the snow 
A stranger that has lost the road will knock 
And stay with us till morning. 

Angel 

Let me stay. 
Thora 
[Rising and looking towards the door.] 
I know not how to answer you : it is late, 

[25] 



And the snow's deep : and yet to-night — to-night 
Is not as other nights, but set apart 
From all the other nights in the long year. 
But if you had come to-morrow — or yesterday ! — 

Angel 
I could not choose but journey on this day: 
I have been but three days in the land. 

Thora 

You came 
In the strange ship out of the south, it may be? 

Angel 

It is so. What is this night? 

Thora 

I'd not fill 
Your ears with mine own story. This is all, 
It is my wedding night : — only ten years — 
I'll set it down. 

[She takes the bowl from her.] 

Angel 
That is a heavy ring. 

Thora 
[Letting her examine it.] 
My husband gave it me. 

Angel 

That is my ring. 
I lost it in the fields, two days ago. 

[26] 



Thora 
When were you in our fields? 
Angel 

The day we landed. 

Thora 
My husband found it in the furrow, and gave it 
To me. 

Angel 
It is my ring, and here is writ — 
'tBou, /.atva Travxa jtoiw 

Thora 
Can you decipher it? It is some charm 
That wedded with the mystic power of rings 
Will bind and keep the soul? Is it not a charm? 

Angel 
It is to set the imprisoned spirit free. 

Thora 
What should that signify? 

Angel 
It is the day 
To hear it and take comfort in the truth — 
*'Lo, I make all things new !" 

Thora 

Give it me back. 
There can be no change in eternity. 
No ring can bear a legend that cries out 
"Change" ! But to marriage and eternal love 
And fellowship the ring exhorteth us. 

Angel 
Even as this other, that bears no legend? 

[27] 



Thora 
Yes, yes ! Ah ! give it me ! He loves me well ! 
He is a man, and there be many needs 
In which I am comfortless and of no help 
To him. But this you read, he would but scorn. 
Give it me back. 

Angel 
[Taking her outsteretched hand.] 
Why, it has worn a mark 
Already on your finger — in two days. 
How should you wear it for ten years ? 

Thora 

As this 
I have worn ten years, and yet it chafes me not. 
My finger is not red, but clear and white 
Beneath it. 

Angel 
And your soul? 

Thora 
Do you not think 
I left my mother's house with something learned 
Of her, and something of my self divined. 
That in my own house should be laid on me 
A greater burden than my maiden tasks? 

Angel 
You have no children. 

Thora 
Yet without them, life 
Is full of cares and no light holiday. 
I am content to live so. 

[28] 



Angel 

You have tears 
In your eyes even now. 

Thora 
May I not weep 
Without a cause? I am often left alone, 
And so imagine cause for grief. I have lost 
A way of looking up under the eyes, 
Or a girl's trick of throwing back the head — 
Something I shall recover — oh ! be sure ! 
And so my husband leaves me alone some while. 
It is but that he feels yet young, I know, 
That he forgets I am older now than he. 
But one day he'll remember and be turned 
To look on me with reasonable eyes, 
Who have grown old beside him. My hair's grey 
Over the temples, but he is red. 

Angel 

No change 
Upon your body hath struck him. 

Thora 

Whence are you? 
What are you that blow on me like the wind 
Which ruffles the still, solitary pool? 
The water that was sad, and yet at peace. 
You have stirred up. 

Angel 
Ere they be choked with weed 
I stir the waters ; for within their depth 
Is healing for the sorrow of the world. 

[29] 



[She gives him the ring. Cormar re-enters with the 
lamp, so that the room grows light. He is covered 
with snow.\ 

Cormar 

The snow is falling thick again. 

Thora 

Look, Cormar, 
Here is a stranger whom I have taken in. 

Cormar 
It is an ill night to be lost abroad. 
She is welcome. 

Angel 
I am loth to trouble you, 
So fit your dwelling seems for weary feet, 
So warm your welcome. 

Cormar 

There's none other near. 

Thora 
Save Olaf's. 

Cormar 
Where hath he to lodge a stranger ? 
Or what save dreams to feast them on? 

Angel 
[Rising.] 

T have 
The master's seat. You are cold, and I am warm'd 
Already. 

Cormar 
Sit you still. 

[30] 



Angel 
Nay, do you come. 

[He takes his chair, stretching his body before the 
blase. She is very attentive to him, and he is flat- 
tered by her demeanour.] 

CORMAR 

[As Thora takes the broth from the fire.] 
Come, eat and drink with us ! 

Thora 

Nay, she has supped. 

CoRMAR 

Will you not sit with us at table? 

Angel 

Indeed 
I am no longer hungry. 

Thora 

I have made 
All ready for you, Cormar. 

CORMAR 

[Rising.] 

I'll not press 
Food on you, but you shall drink wine with us. 
Bring the flask, Thora. 

Thora 
Will you—? 

[She breaks off and produces the flask.] 

[31] 



CORMAR 

It will keep 
The blood warm in you through your sleep to-night, 
There are three cups. Drink this. 

[He gives the Angel one.] 

It is good wine. 
Why do you not drink, Thora ? 

Thora 

I have lost 
Desire to drink. 

CORMAR 

[Turning to the Angel.] 

You are welcome to my house. 
[To Thora] 
I'll sleep to-night in the stable on the straw. 

Thora 
[Aside to him.] 

She must not stay. I had thought to bid her stay 
But cannot in my heart find welcome for her. 

CORMAR 

She can lie by your side. 

Thora 

But you — 

CORMAR 

What else? 
We cannot push her from the door. 

[32] 



Thora 
[To him intimately] 

Because 
You have forgotten, that is why you'll give 
Your bed up to her. Ah ! you do not think ! 
But if my yearning blood can claim you yet 
You shall not sleep this night away from me. 
Gyda has room and a free heart. From her 
I shall find shelter for the stranger here. 

CORMAR 

Stay! 

Thora 
[To the Angel] 
I will find you shelter, friend, elsewhere. 

CORMAR 

I will not have it ! 

Thora 
Ah ! But this one night ! 

CORMAR 

To-morrow and yesterday are as to-day. 
Why do you linger over the memory 
Of a death-bed ten years cold? 

Angel 

I would not take 
The master's bed. If you will find me shelter, 
I'll thank you for your pains. 

[33] 



Thora 

Shall I do so, 
Cormar? 

CORMAR 

[Shortly.] 
Our guest desires it. 

Angel 

Think no shame, 
Blame not yourself, as I do blame you not. 
It is my choice. 

Thora 
I shall be back again 
In an instant. Be not angry, Cormar, with me. 

CORMAR 

[Suddenly kissing her.] 
Take that into the darkness with you, and come 
Quickly again. 

[She goes out. To himself.] 

She hath my youth. I gave 
A goodly gift to her, which makes her good. 

Angel 
What a pale cheek ! How cold ! 

Cormar 

They of her race 
Have fair, soft skins and are most chaste of blood. 
But like sweet fruit in season they grow red 
And are the sweeter for the rare delight. 

[34] 



[He sits gloomily at the table and pours out wine, which 
he then forgets.] 

Angel 
[After an interval of silence] 

You did not look for snow again ? 

CORMAR 

Hook 

For nothing. 

Angel 
But a careful husbandman 
Will watch the sky. 

CoRMAR 

I care not what befall. 

Angel 
Will not the snow kill the young seed? 

CoRMAR 

It may be. 
But I have sown no seed this year, and wait 
No harvest. 

Angel 
Yet I saw you at the plough 
But two days since. 

CoRMAR 

Oh yes. 

Angel 

The day I lost 
A ring of copper from my finger. 

[35] 



CORMAR 

Yes. 

Each year for ever I plough and break the earth up, 
And turn the soil and turn it over again : 
But I put down no seed and reap no harvest. 

Angel 
Why then do you still labour and lead out 
In the bleak dawn your team, and come again 
So late to rest ? What make you in the fields ? 

CoRMAR 

Dreams, with mine idle hands on the plough-tail ! 
For bending so above the turned, wet Earth 
I get from hence and mix with men of old. 
And thus shake off the care hangs over the house. 
The sharp regret for all my good years dead. 

Angel 
What profit have you of an unsown field? 
What will you draw from earth to feed your life? 

CoRMAR 

I know not : for last year my cattle strayed. 
And on the hills were frozen : and my sheep 
Perished in the like way. Now I have none. 
Nor dare I venture out on the grey sea 
Because my boat is rotten and the sail torn. 
But there my heart is — out on the grey sea 
With aching memory among the masts 
That towered above the chiefs of Innisthore, 
The lordly harvesters of the red grain. 

[36] 



With them of old I laboured from the coast 

Of Innisfail to stormy Videroe, 

From Ulster and Morven by the Hebrides 

And even to the cities of the South 

On sunny rivers — reaping, reaping, reaping 

With that bright sickle you see over your head. 

I was a man then. I was a king then. Now — 

[He stretches his great limbs.] 

Angel 
You were a warrior in old days ? 

CORMAR 

Ten years ! 
No more than ten years since. If now there be 
A warrior living in those days from Sveyn 
Of Orkney to the meanest — ask if this 
Be truth, that I, Red Cormar was to men 
A song in mine own time, as Fingal even. 
Or Fergus on the strings of Carril's harp. 
Ten years you would have thought could hardly sap 
The marrow of a young giant. 

Angel 

Surely you 
Were first among the seamen and the kings, 
The royal fighters. Have you not been to-day, 
Even this day, ten years married? 

CORMAR 

You know that ! 
She hath told you that? Why yes, I have been ten 
years 

[37] 



Sapped and unstrung, womanish, feeble, old. 

Yet have I taken a king by his full beard 

And a king's son by his wavy yellow hair 

And rolled away their crowns into my ship. 

Would God they had slain me then ! I am less a man 

Than if I were ten years buried. 

Angel 

Are there not 
Young lions and their whelps in the world to slay? 
If you should lay your hands even in these days 
To the red reaping-hook, are there not kings 
That should desire your friendship? 

CORMAR 

Once indeed ! 
I know not if the old kings are living yet. 
I have been buried an age, I think. It may be 
They are all dead, or, living, are grown white 
And tremble on their hams as they walk forth. 

Angel 
But you are young and your limbs fail not you. 
Go down among the young men ! Shew them all 
The work of an elder as your work was done 
In your day. 

Cor MAR 
Nay. I am an old dog chained 
To a kennel. I can go no further forth 
Than the chain's length that holds me to my straw. 

Angel 
Will you be free? There is no man is bound 
But by the woven cord of his invention. 

[38] 



You have devised this bondage that oppresseth you, 
And you alone can break it, if you be 
A man. 

CORMAR 

I am. There was none hke me. 

Angel 
You can remember praise that covered you. 
New praises can you by no means compel. 
Will you already in your richest health 
Shake by a fire, and count your old coin over? 
What joy have you, what profit in remembrance? 

CoRMAR 

A man there was of mighty limbs, a leader 

Of many warriors in Helgoland, 

When we went thither in our ships of old. 

Angel 
Ay, what of him to-day? Shall your sole heart 
Retain what the earth loses and must lose? 
Shall all things change about you in due course 
And you abide? 

CORMAR 

He stood up on a rock 
And drew our helmsman with his left hand out 
Of the swinging, helpless ship, and held him high 
Above the hissing surf, and, laughing, struck 
The head from his body. 

Angel 
Ah-h— !— Then? 
[39] 



CORMAR 

I leapt down 
Into the wild deep water by the ram, 
And swam under the gleaming copper keel 
Up to his rock, and with torn feet and knees 
Climbed, keeping still my shield over my head. 
And mowed him at the ankles. Down he came ! 
His sword was a mower's scythe, but help'd him not 
Against me : he had a spear two fathoms long, 
And two men ever abode at his back to carry it ! 
But there it hangs that felled this forest king, 

[He takes his own sword from the wall.] 
This oak among the pines. I laid him low. 
He had a collar of gold about his neck, 
But this shore through it like a band of straw, 
Of yellow straw that bindeth up the sheaves. 
I hurled him clashing back among his friends. 
And they that followed me, gleaned after me. 
Such things I dream on in the black mid-field, 
And therefore I dip in my hand no more 
To fill it with the grain in sowing time. 
[He makes the sword sing.] 

Angel 
Why, how you make the blade whistle and bite 
Against the riven air! 

CoRMAR 
For I am yet 
Somewhere at heart a warrior and a king. 

Angel 
There be new galleys sighted in these waters. 

[40] 



Cor MAR 
Ha! What of them? 

Angel 
Set foot upon their decks 
You are fixed upon your loins like a strong tower ! 
Your body is a turret whence men watch 
And your long hair a banner to buoy up 
The hopeful hearts of warriors. 

CORMAR 

I am yet 
Young, you would say? 

Angel 

You are a king of men. 

CORMAR 

This target hath done service. Look ! This hide 

I stripped from a white bull ere I was grown, 

A wild white bull of Britain. That long scar 

It had of a Moor's scimitar in Spain. 

Think you with this before, and in my hand 

This, is there yet in me a word, a look, 

A spirit for men to follow ? 

Angel 

Surely yes : 
And women would fall down and clasp your knees. 

CORMAR 

Well I remember launching the long ships 
And pushing round the headlands of the rocks : 
And outward then across the straits we went 
Westward against the wet tempestuous winds, 

[41] 



And south to cities of the merchant folks. 
And never came we home without good store 
Of gold and copper and curious woven work, 
And dark haired women whom we chose by lot. 
After the sowing put we forth to sea, 
And came again at harvest, and again 
Put out, when all was stored, to catch the winds 
Of Autumn till the snow-fall. So we put 
The raiment of the seasons on our lives. 
And with the months our beings moved. 

But One 
Hath brought us a new Heaven in His hand, 
A birthright of intolerable days. 
With promises to be redeemed at death, 
No glory of alternating good and ill 
Here in the flesh, of changing war and peace. 
I think He knew not of a royal need. 
His was no kingly heart that offered this. 

Angel 
Yours is a king's heart. Be a king and drive 
These new invaders from your soul. Drive out 
The enemy whose ships lie on your beach. 
Launch forth and follow over the rich seas 
And be not lost for a faint pilot's sake. 
Take you the helm i 

Cor MAR 
What are you that have shewn 
My soul to me? What magic is in you. 
Since from the depth of mine own thought you speak 
The words my lips have uttered not. 

[42] 



Angel 

I see 

The spirit that is in you, and I speak 

The words that tremble on all lips the world wide. 

You are the trumpet at the mouth of Time : 

I am the breath within the trumpet. We 

Are soundless severally. 

CORMAR 

You alone 
Have seen the god in me. By you I am crowned. 
Follow me ever out across the world. 

Angel 
Lead me. I follow. 

CORMAR 

You are my strength, my soul ! 
[He clasps her.] 
Ah ! queenly soul ! My lover ! Oh ! your eyes — 
I cannot read the enchantment that doth haunt 
Your eyes and draw on mine. For you have come 
Out from some shrine where sits unuttered Truth 
And your face glows with knowledge infinite. 
Bring me, too, in to the dim place ! 

[The lamp begins to flicker.] 

[43] 



Angel 

We are one. 
Come, let us go amid the fields of kings. 
But look not back in sorrow. Let us go. 
It is the time to look, and know, and change, 
Since truth is dead in the old signs, and light 
Has faded from the lanterns lit of old. 

CORMAR 

[With the sword in his right hand and his left arm 
through the buckler-straps.] 

I will tear off to-morrow from a king 
A horned helmet, and with a thin keel 
Slash out my name in foam across the sea. 

[They go out together, leaving the door wide: the 
lamp flickers again and goes out and the fire burns 
low. Presently voices are heard without and 
Thora re-enters with Gyda. Thora stands silent, 
taking in the truth at once, intuitively: but Gyda 
talks. ] 

Gyda 
There's no one here. Is it his custom, then. 
To see all's well before he shuts the door? 
It may be when he left her she was afraid 
To sit alone in a strange house in the dark 
And followed after him. 

[44] 



Thora 

It is the truth. 
I closed my eyelids and shut out the truth; 
And now it fills my soul, the bitter weed, 
The unsown truth that springeth up like grass. 
And you come on it suddenly where it sprung 
Ages before you saw it. 

Gyda 
What do you mean? 

Thora 
Who was it came here wandering to my house? 
Was this a woman sat beside my fire ? 
Whom have I entertained? 

Gyda 

What do you say ? 

Thora 
I would I were imperious, like a queen 
Out of the old stories, that is girt with a sword ! 
Now had I laid my hand to the copper hilt : 
I had smitten her, that her hair should have been shed 

down 
Over my feet like water, and him there 
I would have stretched above her, heart to heart 
Married and dead. 

Gyda 
I see now. He is gone 
But you must weep. Nay do not stand so still ! 
Weep here — here in my arms lest you go mad. 

[45] 



Thora 
Why, if they brought him dead I should but weep : 
I should bend over him and still with tears 
Regret, regret, regret. 

Olaf 
[Without] 
How long you are ! 
My horses wait to draw you home again. 
The eagle of the morning is aloft, 
And spreads abroad his grey and golden wings 
Above the hills, above the pines and sea. 
\He enters.] 

Olaf 
[To Gyda.] 
What is amiss."* 

Gyda 
Cormar is gone. 

Olaf 

Is he dead? 
Gyda 

He is gone with the strange woman. She is alone. 

Thora 
I would the pines were growing over me. 
Out of my heart, if that may quicken aught. 

[46] 



Olaf 
Ah ! flesh and spirit you have made quick in me. 
I pray you, Thora, be not sorrowful. 
I saw last night new symbols out of Heaven. 
The old signs are empty of the Truth and hang 
Against the sky like tempest-ruined oaks 
That stand for landmarks when the bounds are 

changed. 
They bind, not free thy soul. Upon your hands 
Where the soft flesh is hardened hath been set 
In these ten years the dreadful testament 
Of woman's sacrifice in love to man. 
Now of thine own act free thyself, as he 
Is freed, and be not like the rest of women 
Nailed for derision of the winds and all 
Interminable spirits, to the bleak Cross, 
The empty and antique symbol of the ring. 

[She starts and clutches the finger on which she wears 
the copper ring.] 

ril take you hence. 

Gyda 
Thora! 

Olaf 

Ah hear me now. 
I have five white horses harnessed in my wain. 
I will not stay to deck their heads with plumes 
Nor dress their manes, but let us go even now, 
Even in the dawn, as verily out of night 
Into the day your spirit shall advance. 
And you'll forget the rest. Is there not hope ? 

[47] 



Gyda 
Truly he loves you. If Truth be as grass 
Then is it sown as grass by the hand of God, 
And not unsown because we sowed it not. 
If this be God's will ! 

Olaf 
For there must be change 
Within Eternity. I have money and land, 
And herds and flocks — but naught that is not yours- 
No, not a dream that visiteth me at night 
But seems mysteriously to proceed from you, 
Thora. 

Gyda 
Here, sweet, at least were solace, here 
Love and all gentleness, and it may be 
Forgetfulness and a new past created. 

Thora 
But think you it is now a thousand years — 
Have I among the dreamless folk been dead, 
With them forgetful for a thousand years 
Since I went to that other and gave him all? 
I went to him in white, with my hair bound. 
Bringing him boughs and blossom white upon them: 
And I was proud with garlands in my hair; 
And I was humble before him and gave all. 
He set me up between his knees : he took 

[48] 



The fillet from my forehead, and unclasped 

The bracelets from my arms, the silver rings. 

And the white girdle from my waist drew off. 

And all the bonds that did encircle me 

And bind me to my childish life he broke. 

And like a shaken branch that strews the earth 

With beauty, fell my blossom over him. 

And I was shed like dew upon his strength, 

I came down like the dew that gladdens earth. 

As a great tree whereon the rain is rained 

And the vast limbs are freshed ; so was my lord. 

But now as the garment we are weary of 

He hath changed me, and left me where he'll walk no 

more. 
He hath left me in an unremembered room. 
There is no kindness in him for my beauty. 
No sweet remembrance of my beauty's gift. 
And I am grey and fretful with remembrance. 

Olaf 
You are eternal! 

Thora 
This is the end of life, 
The ceasing of my natural increase here. 
Since time to come can grow not from the past 
Nor meet it even across this chasmed day. 

Olaf 
The past is dreadful. Love, be born anew ! 

[49] 



Thora 
If I could die first. 

Olaf 
I will fill your life 
With my youth, with my blood and with my dreams. 

Thora 
I can not take his arms from the thin girl 
I have so often wept for. She would come 
With eyes like these, upbraiding, full of tears, 
And say "Why left you me alone with him 
To take a new man ?" Oh, the scarlet sun ! 
Would God ye'd bury me out of the light of it. 

Olaf 
Thora ! 

Gyda 
Say nothing. Let her be alone. 
Her soul hath memories we can never share. 
We'll seek her out to-night. 

[She takes him away, stopping only to pull the curtain 
across the window, through which the morning sun 
is now streaming. The horse-hells jingle away into 
the distance.] 

Thora 
My life is in the prison of a ring ! 
Why can not I change, if that Change be Law? 
Lo ! all things change, but change comes not to me ! 
The circles of the world have shut me out. 

[curtain.] 
[so] 



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